


One Of Those Nights

by letsgooutintherain



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgooutintherain/pseuds/letsgooutintherain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy tries to deal with guilt, nightmares and his attraction to Ed. Ed just tries to help without letting on how much he cares, but with alcohol in the mix, that's not an easy task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolog

So it would be one of those nights. And a pretty bad one, considering that the signs were this noticeable even at twelve o'clock in the middle of headquarter. Riza sighed inwardly and glanced at the man sitting beside her. Roy looked tired. Not the normal exhausted that came from working late at night, not even the kind of tired that came with successful dates. They could be cured with strong coffee and a meaningful hand on her holster. 

No this was different. It was the kind of tired, that came from nightmares and shadows in the dark. The one where she didn't need to do anything to make him work. Because he was working, just to avoid thinking. She knew what that was like, she had days like that too. For her that meant it was time for a night out with Rebecca. As for Roy...

A few years ago, she would have called Maes. No one was as good at dealing with Roy's demons as his best friend had been. Since then she had tried her best to fill his place, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn't replace him. 

With half an ear she listened to Fuhrer Grumman, talking on about infrastructure, and tried to keep an eye on their opponents under the generals, but most of her focus was still on Roy. He would get drunk tonight, avoiding sleep for as long as he could manage. And she would stay by his side, because that was what friends were for. 

He wouldn't want her there of course. Would want to be alone. A few times she had granted him that wish, but it didn't make things better, a lesson she had learned quickly. Not that being there really helped either, all she could do was try to keep the edge off.

Knowing what he went through wasn't enough, made it probably even worse. She had given him her fathers research, had given him his weapon. She could as well have killed those people herself. Count her own death toll on top of it... How could she help him if she was unable to forgive herself?

'... And don't ever forget them, because I promise that they won't forget you.' The memory of Kimblee's words rose unbidden from her mind. She shoved them back. It might be true, but looking back wouldn't change it. Making things right in this country wouldn't either, but most days it was enough for her to think that at least she was giving something back. 

Most day's it was enough for Roy too, but today was clearly not one of those. And if she wasn't enough... Well she had never been one to stand by and watch. A plan of action was called for. There must be something she hadn't tried yet. 

No setting him up with a pretty girl, no stopping him from drinking, no talking about what had happened. Distracting him was pretty hard too, not something she could keep up all night. How had Maes done that? A combination of being drinking buddies, having cute stories of Elicia and being able to see when it was time for honest words, reassurances and a hug. At least that was what she guessed.

She still pondered this, when the meeting was closed and they heeded back to the office.

She couldn't replace Maes. No one could. But there must be a way. Someone else who could help him and support him where she reached her limits. She looked as Roy vanished into his inner office, shoulders set straight, but with a forced line, only she would notice.

Striding over to her own desk she glared at Havoc, who tried to look busy while stuffing a magazine under his desk. He looked embarrassed and hastily started to scribble on his notepad, while skimming the reports. With a sigh she looked at her own stack of paperwork.

Back to her main problem. Who else could get Roy out of this? How many friends did he have? His team obviously, some of Mrs Christmas' girls, Gracia of course, Major Armstrong, Dr Marcoh probably...

She doubted that he would trust any of the last ones enough to let his guard down. Excerpt for Gracia, but he would never bother her with this. And his team? 

Her gaze landed on Fuery, but she immediately shook her head. Fuery was a kind soul, no way someone would even think of burdening him with demons like these.

Falman? His way of comforting was by lecturing about reassuring facts and statistics. There were situations for that kind of thing, but not this one. The guilt wouldn't go away, no matter how much good they had already done.

So Breda? Havoc? They might be the closest to Roy apart from her. Yes, they were pretty blunt, both of them, and bantering like kids sometimes, but they were good and honest and certainly willing to support Roy no matter what.

But first and foremost, Roy was their commanding officer. It was what they saw in him. Respect would always be part of the deal. And Roy would try to be strong for them. At least with her and Maes there had been no need for that. They could read him too well for his masks to work.

Her gaze landed on the two empty desks, one neatly tidied, one messy as hell. Alphonse and Edward, now a permanent part of the team, even if most days more outside of the office than within, doing research and fieldwork. The Healing and the Fullmetal Alchemist. They might have a chance. 

The thought surprised her a bit. They were so young, even if they weren't children anymore. They were both legal, both old enough to enlist properly. 

When she thought about it they would be nearly ideal. Roy might be their commanding officer, but at least Ed had never really treated him as such, had fought years to be seen as an equal instead of another pawn. He had shown no respect for Roy's rank. And most important: They had seen a lot of the terrible things humans could come up with, had their own guilt. They would understand. 

The determinism those two showed was infectious, walking forwards against all odds. Making things right again. Looking at them sometimes made her believe she could make things right too. 

The only remaining question was, if Roy would allow them to see him down.

As if on cue, the door banged open, revealing Edward Elric. 

"Just dropping them in," he said cheerfully, waving a stack of papers.

"Go through," Hawkeye replied, taking on her paperwork, but keeping an ear open for eventual fights. With those two one never knew.

She needn't have worried, a minute later Ed was out again, a frown in place. Half way through the office he looked back at Roy's door, the expression on his face unhappy and... was that worry?

So he had noticed something. Either Roy was too tired to keep up a proper act, or she wasn't the only one who could see right through Roy's masks. Whichever it was, it was what she needed. 

"Edward, do you have a moment?" She kept her voice firm. It wasn't a request, but an order, even if he technically outranked her.

"Yeah, sure," he replied and came back to her desk.

She took a sheet of paper and started to write, before giving it to Ed.

He looked calmly at the few words she had written, before nodding once, folding it and leaving without another word. Her note, containing a time, the address of a bar and one short sentence, neatly tucked into his pocket.

'He will need the company.'

When she went back to her paperwork her heart was a little lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone. Or, if you don't celebrate it, have a nice day/night.


	2. One Of Those Nights

"Goddammit," Ed growled, as he slipped through the door, trying to blink the rain out of his eyes. The room was lit by warm, dimmed light. Low voices, occasional laughter and the clinging of glass on tables surrounded him and a few eyes looked up to see who had been stupid enough to come through the rainstorm.

Ed glared at them, mostly out of habit, before assessing the rest of the room. There were tables by the walls, some open, inviting company, some secluded for closed groups. At the other end of the room, taking the complete wall, was the bar, and there sitting on one of the chairs, shoulders hunched with the back to him was the man he had taken on the rain for:

Brigade General Roy Mustang. Or in Ed's current mood: Colonel Bastard. 

He still wasn't sure why Hawkeye had asked him to come. He didn't even know what was wrong. Only that it was. Sure Mustang had tried to look like his usual self, but Ed had years of experience reading emotions from an expressionless suit of armour. After that tone of voice and body language were as obvious to him as direct words.

But why had she asked him? Why not come herself, or ask one of the others in the office? He and Mustang didn't have the most normal relationship. They fought more often than not, even if they didn't aim to hurt. They had a solid basis of respect for each other, but Ed wouldn't call it friendship. And the work relationship was even worse. Mustang ordered, Ed followed the given direction, assessed the situation and ended up ignoring his orders, thinking he could do better. 

Well, standing in the door would get him nowhere. He strode through the room, peeling himself out of his totally soaked coat. Mustang didn't look up, when he took the chair next to him.

"I told you, I don't need the company." His voice sounded resigned, as if he had already accepted, that he had no say in the matter.

"No you didn't," Ed grinned. He would bet that speech had been aimed at Hawkeye.

Mustang looked up. "Fullmetal," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. Within seconds he had straightened his spine and his gaze was sharp, if somewhat haunted. Even with plain, black trousers and a white shirt, he gave a good impression of a superior officer. Could have fooled a lot of people.

"That doesn't change the fact, that I don't want it," Mustang said.

Ed shrugged, "Well I'm not going. It's fucking freezing out there. I guess you are stuck with me." With that he concentrated his mind on a basic water array, clapped and evaporated the moisture of his clothes.

The crackling blue light drew a few gazes to him, including the bartender's, so he grinned and indicated that he wanted a drink.

The man made his way over from a few regulars. "What can I bring you?"

"Cider," Ed replied and ignored Mustang's snort.

The man frowned, "We don't have cider."

Ed shrugged. "Then I take apple juice and sugar."

Now the man looked outright dubious, but a glare from Ed stopped the comment in its track.

"Cider?" Mustang asked, mock evident in his voice.

Ed looked at Mustang's drink. It was amber, served in a slightly bigger but shorter glass and, Ed would bet, included a lot more alcohol than cider did.

"I'm missing two limbs," Ed said bluntly, "I don't have the body weight to drink as much as you do." That was a fact he would never get around. What he didn't say was that at least one of them had to stay sober.

The bartender set the juice and a bowl of sugar down in front of him, before returning to his regulars.

Ed smiled, put the sugar in his drink and clapped. With a flash of blue light he fermented the sugar to ethanol.

Mustang arched an eyebrow, as Ed took a sip and distorted his face. Alchemic alcohol was never as good as the regular one. 

"Shut up," Ed muttered, before the bastard could open his mouth.

"I didn't say anything," Mustang replied with a smirk, taking a sip from his own drink. He had yet to give up his I'm-okay-and-don't-want-company demeanour, "If I do will you leave me alone?"

"Nope," Ed replied and took another sip. 

Mustang returned to his own drink, knocking back the rest and motioning for another.

Ed took the time to take another look at him. Mustang had dark circles under his eyes and the set of his shoulders was all wrong, but a casual bystander would probably think nothing of it. He would see the way that shirt hugged his beautiful frame, and the contrast bringing out the dark in his eyes. Eyes that turned on Ed once again, gaze narrowed. 

Ed hastily took another sip of his drink. Did he mention that he had a fucking insistent crush on his 14 year older superior officer? Life sucked. 

"So Riza made you come to have a drink with me?" Mustang asked.

"She said you might need the company," Ed replied.

"Well, she was wrong, I don't," Mustang said, voice hard.

"If I go, will you drink yourself to oblivion?" Ed asked, "If so, then I would say she wasn't."

"Of course I'm not." Mustang had straightened himself, giving his best impression of being honest, "You can go home, Fullmetal." He made it sound like an order.

"Nice try," Ed said evenly, "You can drop the act, by the way, I see right through it."

Once again Mustang looked surprised and his gaze grew more intense. Ed felt a shiver race down his spine and carefully took another sip of his transmuted cider, fighting the instinct to reach out and brush that strand of hair out of Mustang's eye. Fuck. If it had only been the crush he would have been fine. It would have gone away long ago. But no, on top of it, he could read the idiot like a book, saw him struggle every day.

"And what do you see, Fullmetal?"

Ed sighed and pushed the thoughts away, before answering: "You are exhausted, haven't slept much last night. Seeing how you are here instead of home to catch up on sleep, I'd guess nightmares. You try to look relaxed, but it is forced. Your gaze is haunted, even when you try to intimidate me, which would be fruitless by the way, regardless of your condition. It's in the careful way you choose your tone, that second you take to consider, before you position yourself. Do you want to hear more?"

Mustang shook his head and went straight back to his drink. Ed watched as he knocked back the whole glass in one go and mentioned for the next. 

"And what are you going to do, Fullmetal?"

Ed shrugged, "Since I don't know what's wrong, I will just stay here, keep you company and make sure you don't end up in some alley tonight because you were too drunk to find your way home."

"And if I say no?" Mustang asked.

"Then I say fuck you, I don't care. You don't want me here? That's okay, tomorrow you will be grateful."

"Ah yes, and you know that, because you are an expert on my emotions, right?" 

Well Ed had wondered when they would start a fight. Had taken longer than he would have guessed. "Actually I know from experience. Al has never left me alone. But since you are an ungrateful bastard, I'm not going to wait for a thank you."

"Says the shrimp, that never learned manners."

His first instinct was shouting, but in a split second he caught the smug half grin on the bastard's face and remembered why he was here. Especially where here was. He hadn't exactly made friends in this bar and was pretty sure if he gave that idiot bartender an excuse he would have no problem kicking him out.

"Asshole," he growled instead, "Who are you calling so small he could drown in a puddle?" If he could only hold on to his temper, he would get them both through this evening. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

This night was totally not his, Roy thought gloomily. Not only had Riza managed to find the only other person that was able to read him (how had that happened anyway?), on top of it, she had managed to get said person to babysit him tonight, and no matter what he tried he couldn't get rid of him.

Taking another sip of his drink, he concentrated on the buzz in his head. If he was lucky he could ignore the steady gaze from that pair of golden eyes. Of all people Riza had to take him. There had always been something about Ed, something to push his feelings. Concern, anger, respect... And in recent years: attraction. Something he deliberately pushed out of his mind.

Oh yes, Riza was efficient. She had to go and find the only other person he would even consider to trust. Ed was ... well Ed.

Strong, determined, protective, loyal to a fault. If he hadn't known it before, he did after the brothers had rejoined the military. They had done it by their own rules. You want us? You only get us as a team. Oh, and did we mention? We work under Mustang and no one else. The thought nearly made him smile, before it was drowned out by the shadows of his nightmares again. A chorus of screams rose in his head and he desperately reached for his drink.

Fuck, this would only get worse when he got home and he wasn't ready to face the things his dreams would dig up. Insomnia had always been part of his life since Ishval, but normally it didn't get this bad. Even with a babysitter, being here was ten times better than going home. His own four walls had seen these shadows far too often. Nothing there to distract him. Nothing to stop the memories.

He took another sip from his glass and looked to the young man beside him. He had left Roy to his own thoughts, after the argument had calmed down, something Roy was extremely grateful for. Now his thoughtful gaze had swapped from Roy to the glass of transmuted cider in front of him, which gave Roy the perfect opportunity to watch him. Adulthood suited him, with his exotic eyes and muscled body he was quite attractive and he had drawn more than a few interested eyes to him.

Wrong train of thought. Even half drunk he knew that was something he shouldn't consider. Acting on this would be as unwelcome to Ed as... milk. He took yet another sip of whisky, only to notice his glass was empty. How many had he had? Not enough, he decided and motioned for the bartender.

The chair to the other side of him moved and a cloud of flower perfume surrounded him. Jessica. He cursed inwardly. Not now. He wasn't up to be charming and polite and make her go without hurting her feelings. 

"How nice to meet you Roy." Her soft and silky voice descended on him like too much sugar.

He straightened his spine anyway, "Hello Jessica." He tried a smile, not sure if it worked the way he wanted to. 

The next second Ed leaned around him, looking the woman up and down. She was wearing a long dark coat and a blue dress underneath, that complimented her eyes. She was beautiful. Exactly the girl Roy normally liked to be seen with. 

Whatever Ed saw it was obviously not the same, because his gaze narrowed. "Did you know, that the flowers used for this perfume are grave flowers in some parts of Amestris?" he asked, voice curious. Her smile vanished, but Ed just carried on, "It might remind people of funerals." Now he smiled at her, but his gaze was too intense.

"I'm Edward Elric by the way," he added, offering his hand. It was the right one, Roy noted absently. She took it, trying to smile again despite obviously feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. The second she realized that the hand under the glove wasn't flesh her mask broke.

"It was nice to meet you two," she said, "I'm sorry I can't stay longer."

"Bye," Ed said cheerfully.

"Maybe 'nother time," Roy forced himself to add. The only thing he felt, as he watched her go was relief. He emptied his glass. That had been quite impressive if he thought about it. Ed had made her feel uncomfortable to a point where she wanted to go, without being too obvious about it. Like this his behaviour could easily be explained as trying to be helpful, if not exactly polite.

"Sorry," Ed said, "I hope you weren't too font of her. Not sure if she will want to meet you again after that. Probably should have asked first, but you didn't seem too happy to see her."

Roy turned to him, to say that he would have no problem seeing her again, he was Roy Mustang after all, but the motion made the world spin around him.

"Careful, Mustang." Ed's flesh hand grabbed his arm, "You've had enough for tonight."

"H've not," Mustang said, but he had a distinct feeling he didn't sound as convincing as he had intended to.

How many had he had again? He didn't know but it didn't matter. He wouldn't go home. Home meant a silent house with shadows everywhere. He wasn't drunk enough to drown the guilt. Not drunk enough to face Ishval again, dying, burning people... There were the screams again. Pure agony distilled into sound.

"'m not going home," he said, shaking his head for emphasis. The world started spinning again, which helpfully shut the voices up. 

When he looked up again there were a few notes and cens on the bar.

"Then you don't go home, Mustang, but you sure as hell don't stay here drinking yourself into oblivion," Ed said.

"Not going, Fullmetal," Roy replied, before his brain caught up with Ed's words, "Where d'you think me going other th'n home?" he must have had more than he thought. His tongue didn't exactly do what he wanted.

"Al isn't home, you can sleep at our place," Ed replied trying to get him to stand up, by lightly pulling at his arm. Al not home? Oh he remembered that, on leave for two days. Visit to Rush Valley, or something.

His head wasn't very clear right now, he wanted to shake it, but thought better of it. There had to be some part of the conversation he had missed. "Why should I want to sleep at yours?"

"Well first: it is close, I don't walk you to..." he frowned, "Where do you live anyway?"

"West of the city," Roy replied.

"Well you can be damn sure I don't walk you all the way through Central! Why did you have to take a bar this far away?" 

Tradition. Roy's mind helpfully replied, but he caught the word before it left his mouth. That was something he wouldn't even think right now. Just another source of nightmares. Luckily, Ed didn't seem to expect an answer, he just shrugged and talked right on. 

"As for the other reason: I could be wrong, but you are here for a reason and that's not primarily the alcohol. If it was just that, you could go to the next store, buy some stuff and drink at home."

Sounded logical. But if he wasn't home in his own four walls, what would he think upon waking? His own home might feel like a cage when the memories closed in, but wouldn't it be worse in a strange place? And there was no way to stand up in the middle of the night to walk the floors to avoid sleeping. And no sense in waking everyone with his nightmares either.

But Ed knew nightmares. He must have them as well, after all he went through. His mind cut in again. Yeah, he shot back, but like this I might save a small rest of my dignity.

"Stop thinking, Mustang. Say either yes or no, but you are not staying here," Ed cut in.

Roy felt himself be drawn to his feet and found he had no energy to resist. And his equilibrium was off. A steadying arm reached for him, pulled him forward and then they were out in the street. 

Cool night air made him sober a bit, but he felt unsteady on his feet. Ed had taken most of his weight by now. Like this they couldn't walk home. If he were alone, it would have been another matter, but it wasn't fair on Ed. 

"To yours," he said. He wouldn't go to sleep anyway.

* * *

Mustang was heavy and, intoxicated or not, he could damn well at least try not to use Ed as a crutch. At least the rain had stopped and only the icy wind howled through the streets, making his way under Ed's coat. Cursing he shifted his grip on Mustang, hoping to find a more comfortable position, then gave up and just ignored his weight and the cold.

"You should make a diet, Bastard."

It took Mustang nearly ten seconds to come up with a retort, and it wasn't even a good one. "I'm not fat," he said, sounding as if he was pouting. He had to be pretty out of it to say something like that. It was an opening Ed could easily use. Only that he no longer wanted to. Arguing was no fun at all when Mustang was like this.

Growling Ed tried again to shift Mustang's weight as wind cut through him, rapidly stealing the remaining heat from the bar from his body. The river next to the street didn't help matters, giving the icy blasts room to play and creep down his collar.

Had the way home always been that long? 

On the up side: Having Mustang this close allowed Ed to take in his scent, an intoxicating mix of something that was totally Mustang with hints of alcohol, sweat and campfire smoke. Ed had always wanted an excuse to get close enough to get to smell him, but this was definitely not what he'd had in mind.

Might be better that way. Ed didn't need any more fuel for his fantasies. Mustang was off-limits, and even if he wasn't: What would a relationship between them look like? They wouldn't stop fighting. Ed was volatile at best and Mustang had quite a temper himself, if he was pushed. Neither of them was known for giving in easily. 

And the worst part was, that nothing of this would stop Ed, if it meant he would get a chance to see more of Mustang without his masks.

Ed shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts. It didn't matter. Mustang was a ladies' man. Ed was neither female nor was he one of those pretty airheads the bastard seemed to prefer. And Mustang was trying to be Fuhrer. Fraternisation with a male subordinate wouldn't do him any good. Same sex relationships were still frowned upon and on top if it there was the fact that Ed was 14 years his junior.

Not that Ed minded the age gap. He had no idea how to get along with someone his own age anyway. They seemed to think life consisted of drinking, having fun and making out with girls. Ed had tried to be more like them, now that he was free to do so. Useless to say that it hadn't gone well. Excerpt that Al had found new friends. That part was totally worth it.

Ed on the other hand couldn't get his head around their attitude. How could they have nothing more important on their mind than the best way to get laid, or what they could do on a saturday night? Add to it that Ed wasn't interested in girls. Well there just was no common ground. 

Mustang chose that moment to stumble and Ed fought to keep them both upright. "Careful, bastard," he growled, "I'm so going to rub this in your face when you are sober again." 

Actually he wouldn't. Mustang had shown a lot of trust tonight, be it by gradually letting his guard down, or by agreeing to come with him rather than going home. The last thing on Ed's mind was doing something to make him think better of it.

"Would like to see you after that much whisky," Mustang replied. That was a marginally better comeback than the last one, but Ed still didn't try to start a real fight. Instead he looked up and down the next street before crossing it. Wind howled again and Ed resisted the urge to get closer to Mustang to share his warmth. 

This was all Hawkeye's fault. Why couldn't she be the one to drag an intoxicated Mustang home? She knew him better than Ed did after all and whatever this was about, she obviously knew it. Hell, she probably had to deal with it before.

They crossed the next street and finally turned away from the river. It didn't help much.

By the time they reached his home, Ed was shivering and his automail felt like chunks of ice. Carefully he leaned Mustang at the wall, making sure the man wouldn't collapse while left on his own, before searching his pockets for the key. 

It took him twenty entirely too long seconds before he decided it wasn't worth it, clapped and transmuted the door open.

"What?" he growled as Mustang arched an eyebrow, but he didn't wait for an answer, just dragged the bastard inside, before clapping again to repair the entrance. The hallway wasn't warm by any means, but at least the wind had stopped. 

"Come on, bastard," Ed muttered, eying the stairs with a frown before sighing and taking Mustang's arm around his shoulders once again.

They staggered up the steps one at a time, both of them staying silent. Mustang had gone pale and Ed desperately hoped that he was not about to be sick. Ed would murder him, promise to Hawkeye or not. 

To his surprise they made it more or less without incident to the second floor. This time Ed didn't even bother to find his keys, he just clapped once again to open the door.

"Make yourself at home," he muttered and repaired the lock with another clap.

* * *

Ed moved and then light flickered on and Roy blinked against the sudden assault to his eyes. It took him a second to take the view in. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Probably not this.

The hall opened into a small living room crammed with piles over piles of books and if he hadn't been fighting down nausea, he would have loved to take a look at them. As it was he caught a glance at rare tomes with cracked spines and faded gold letters, as Ed guided him around a small sofa and past a door that seemed to lead into the kitchen.

"You can take my room," Ed said, "Al isn't home, so I can use his bed." Roy was too out of it to protest. All he wanted right now was lay down and make the world stop spinning. But not sleeping, he didn't want to sleep. Ishval was waiting behind closed eyelids. Fire and the smell of burned bodies.

Not even the icy night of central had been able to chase away the thoughts of heat and blood-soaked sand and screams. 

He felt himself being guided through another door and gently let down onto black sheets on a soft mattress. There were even more books and for some reason the door had a horned skull. Everything spun around dangerously, so he tried to focus on Ed. God he was beautiful. His hair was tousled by the wind and the cold had brought a red glow to his cheeks. If he hadn't needed both hands to keep himself at least partly upright he would have reached out to brush the frown from his face. Someone like Ed shouldn't have to frown so much. 

"Come on, Bastard," Ed muttered. Come on what? Roy felt so tired. How many sleep had he had last night? Two hours? Maybe three? He blinked.

Ed sighed and kneeled down. Mustang felt his boots being pulled from his feet, before hands, one warm one icy cold, reached out to steady him while his arms were pulled from his coat. Part of him knew he should help, but his mind whirled and Ed glowed in the dim light and he felt himself be guided down on the bed.

The second his head hit the pillow he was surrounded by the scent of motor oil and shampoo and Ed. Ed who did nothing but protect the things he cared about. And just like that Roy felt safe. Ishval was a long way from here and Ed would look out for him. Just for tonight he could sleep in peace.

Someone heaved his feet on the bed and drew a blanked over him. 

"Go to sleep, Bastard," Ed said and his voice sounded warm and soft, nothing like his usual roughness.

Reaching out was instinctive. One hand on Ed's shoulder Roy pulled him down into a sleepy kiss and the soft movement of lips against his own followed him into his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year everyone :)


	3. Morning After

When Ed woke he felt worse than if he hadn't slept at all. He had pulled all-nighters before and he sure as hell hadn't felt this tired afterwards. Why? Why had Mustang had to kiss him like this? As if his stupid crush wasn't enough.

Groaning he hid his face in the pillow to escape the light, but awake was awake and his brain didn't want to give him a break. Cursing he got out of Al's bed and made his way into the kitchen to start the coffee. 

If he could have been sure Mustang had known what he did and not been halfway into dreamland already, he might have considered... Stop it. Getting his hopes up was the last thing he needed.

He hesitated when his gaze fell on his own door. Bastard would be up soon. And have one hell of a hangover. After that stunt last night Ed would happily say he deserved it, only that part of him didn't agree. Grudgingly he filled a glass of water and rummaged through the bathroom cabinet for some painkillers, before padding over to his room.

Carefully, as to not wake Mustang, he opened the door and looked in. Roy was nestled in Ed's bed, his sleeping face unguarded and soft. Seeing him like that felt like invading his privacy and Ed cursed himself for thinking something that stupid. Shaking his head he silently made his way over to the nightstand, placing the water and the painkillers there, before slipping out again, not without indulging in another look at Roy.

He had to stop thinking of him as Roy whenever the man looked like this. Without masks and everything the name slipped in as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Mustang. It was Mustang, not Roy. Mustang, Mustang, Mustang. Idiot Colonel Bastard.

Coffee. He definitely needed coffee. If he was lucky he would wake up enough to stop this chaos. To not think of soft lips against his own. 

He poured some coffee into a mug and leaned back against the counter, staring into space. Only to be startled moments later by the door to his room opening. Mustang looked sleep tousled, hair sticking in all directions, his clothes crumpled. There were dark circles under his eyes and he squinted against the light.

Ed wordlessly pointed him to the bathroom, before he could even open his mouth. Mustang vanished inside and Ed used the extra time to make another cup of coffee, before sitting down at the table. He wasn't sure what he thought would happen now. 

It only took Mustang a few minutes to re-emerge from the bath, hair nearly smoothed out, eyes a little more awake. "I probably have to apologize," he said, sitting down heavily at the table.

"What for?" Ed replied and shoved the coffee over the table. They should talk about this. He still didn't know what made Mustang drink like this. And the kiss. He wanted to know what that had been about, but even the idea of asking made his stomach go into free fall.

"Being difficult for one," Mustang said, gripping the mug as if it was a lifeline, "As for the rest... My memory after we left the bar is kind of hazy." He shrugged.

Ed looked away, feeling what? Disappointment? That was stupid. Of course he didn't remember the kiss. He shouldn't even think about it. Mustang had been drunk, might even have thought he was someone else. Of course it didn't mean anything.

Only that, for Ed, it did. The kiss had been soft and tender, neither chaste, nor heated. It had felt like an unspoken declaration of love. If he had wanted Mustang before, it was nothing like what he felt now, knowing what being loved by him felt like... 

But it didn't matter what he wanted, he couldn't have it, so he swallowed against the ache in his chest and pushed it as far aside as his mind would let him. Which was definitely not far enough.

"Okay," Ed said, just to break the somewhat awkward silence. 

Thankfully he was rescued by the ringing of the phone. Mustang actually flinched at the noise, and Ed hurried over to pick it up.

"Edward Elric." 

"This is Hawkeye." She sounded worried. Add to that, that she normally never called...

"What's wrong?" Ed asked. Mustang perked up, at his tone.

"Roy isn't home," she replied, "When did you part with him last night?"

Ed let out a steadying breath and closed his eyes. Nothing wrong. "You scared me for a second, Lieutenant. He is fine, he is here. Do you wanna talk to him?"

"No," Hawkeye replied, "I can do that later." The relief in her voice was evident, "Thank you Edward. I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah. Bye," Ed replied.

"Riza?" Mustang asked as Ed hung up.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "Couldn't reach you at home. I guess she thought you ended up in some alley."

Mustang made a face. Maybe because it could have been true, or because he didn't want her to worry about it. 

Another silence descended, a bit less awkward than the one before. Ed sat down again with a sigh and cradled the coffee in his hands. This whole situation was surreal. He would never have imagined having Roy Mustang in his small kitchen, looking sleep ruffled and drinking coffee out of a colourful mug. 

"Well," Mustang said hesitating, "I should go home."

"You are not going to tell me anything, are you?" Ed asked resigned.

"Tell you what?" Mustang replied carefully. Ed groaned. The man had all of his masks back in place.

"Stop the mind-games, Bastard. What caused that kind of drinking?" Frustrated Ed carded his hand through his hair. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea to tell Mustang how much he cared. That wasn't how their relationship worked, but right now he wasn't sure if he would get anything out of the man without giving him something in return, "How am I supposed to help, if I don't know what's wrong?" he asked.

"I didn't know I was this high on your priority list, Fullmetal," Mustang smirked.

"Don't get smug, bastard," Ed growled. That was exactly why they normally didn't do stuff like this. For a moment he considered to take the bait, to backtrack what he'd just said, to remain their status quo, where they pretended not to care about each other. All it would take was one small sentence, like 'Just want to make sure the country isn't going to be run by a madman,' or something along the line. It would be the easy way out.

Ed glared defiantly and didn't take it back. 

The smirk on Mustang's face vanished and he broke Ed's gaze to stare into his coffee instead. It took a small eternity, in which Ed fought the urge to fidget impatiently on his seat. And then finally: "Do you ever have nightmares that make you fear to close your eyes again?" 

Ed nodded, but didn't interrupt.

"It's the kind of nightmare that stays within the waking hours, haunting your every thought." 

Ed nodded again. Every time a lead had turned out false, after each and every failure those had come with a vengeance. Another chance lost to safe his brother. He had hated those days, when hope was nothing more than a vague concept. He had them even now that Al was back in his body. Dreams of the gate, dreams of people like Tucker or Father.

"How do you cope?" Roy asked. 

"Back when I was looking for the stone, I would work myself to exhaustion," Ed said, "Guilt goes a long way, but luckily hope does too. Giving up was never an option. Al normally knew right away and distracted me with stories from our childhood." Ed lowered his gaze to his own coffee, "If it happens now, I go to him. Sometimes just seeing that he is back in his body is enough. If I can't do that, I burry myself in alchemy till my head swims in arrays and theories..."

Mustang didn't have someone like Al. Hughes was dead and Hawkeye... Why he didn't go to Hawkeye with this Ed wasn't sure, but if he didn't, it meant he tried to cope by himself. Once again Ed wanted to reach for him, to hug him or hold him, just somehow remind him he wasn't alone.

"Mostly it's Ishval," Roy said, "I don't know what is worse. The faces I remember or the ones I don't. Nothing I do will ever be enough."

For a second there was so much pain in his gaze. Knowing what had happened was one thing, but back then, when Hawkeye had told him about this, she had been calm. These few sentences, stripped of every detail, were a lot harder to take in.

And the worst part was that Ed knew the feeling. There was no equivalency to human life. His own death toll wasn't nearly as high as Mustang's, but even those few haunted him. Made worse because he had known most of them. Like Nina. 

But as always forward had been the only way. It was his mantra on the hard days. Going forward, no matter what and making it better than before, stop it from happening ever again. Everything else would make their death meaningless.

"It might not be enough, but not doing anything would be worse," Ed said carefully, "Keep going. I know it's hard, but mourning the past has never got anything done."

Mustang didn't answer and Ed sighed. Al was so much better with this kind of stuff.

"I really should go home now," Mustang said into the silence.

"Will you be all right?" Ed asked. 

"I'm no longer intoxicated, Fullmetal, I don't need a babysitter," Mustang replied testily.

"Calm down, old man," Ed grinned, "Just making sure getting you out of that bar wasn't in vain." He fell back into old habits. Arguing, baiting. It was safe ground. It was easier and it made hiding his feelings easier as well.

Mustang stood up, collected his coat and boots and made his way to the door. Ed followed silently watching him bind his shoes. Fuck this. In the silence of his head he could admit it. He was in love. 

And fuck that he couldn't have this, couldn't fight for it. 

Because it could cost him their tentative trust. Having this bit of Mustang was a thousand times better than having nothing at all. Because of fraternisation, age difference, Mustang wanting to be fuhrer, because Mustang hadn't meant that kiss.

Too many reasons not to do this. 

Mustang opened the door, stepped out in the hallway and then hesitated, turning around with a small but grateful smile. 

"Next time, just call me," Ed said. He wanted to say more. Wanted to say that he could call, even if it was the middle of the night, wanted to say that he knew he disliked to ask for help, but that was what friends were for.

Mustang didn't reply, said neither yes, nor no, just smiled one last time and then turned around and Ed closed the door, before sliding down to sit on the floor, head resting on his knees.

* * *

The door clicked shut behind him and Roy allowed himself to breathe. What had he been thinking? Telling Ed about his nightmares... He sighed and made his way down the stairs and out on the street. He wasn't far from the bar, that much he remembered Ed saying, but after that the way here was kind of blurry.

His still pounding head didn't make this easier, but at least he didn't feel too ill anymore. To his own surprise he hadn't had any nightmares, only dreams about kissing Ed, something he hadn't been able to push from his mind the whole morning. 

There was a part of him that wanted to do it for real, wanted to draw Ed close and hold him, kiss him senseless till...

Roy shook his head and made his way over to the bigger street, hoping to catch a bus. This was something he shouldn't dwell on. He liked Ed, more than he probably should, but it had no future. Ed was Ed, fiery and gorgeous and brilliant, but even in the unlikely case that he reciprocated, it would still be like playing with fire. 

Roy made his way down the street, shoving the thoughts aside. There were more important things to worry about. Like Ed being able to read him. The idea made him feel vulnerable. How had he never noticed it? How much had Ed seen during their fights?

And then there was the thing about the nightmares. In theory Ed knew about Ishval, Riza had given him the facts, but allowing him to see the effects on him was something else entirely. Roy wasn't sure what he feared more: The pity that would inevitably follow, or the disgust about what had happened in Ishval when Ed's strong moral code kicked in. 

A part of Roy had always wondered how long it would take Ed to finally understand in full capacity what Roy had done. Nobody was as idealistic as Ed and it had always been only a matter of time till that idealism crashed into Roy's past. Was what he had said this morning enough to tip the scale the other way?

The pity would be just as hard, because for Roy it was unacceptable. He resented pity on normal days, but for nightmares about Ishval? It disregarded, that he wasn't a victim but the one causing destruction and death. The people he had killed deserved pity, but not him. Never him.

And then there was a third possibility. He had given Ed a lot of leverage to use in a fight. If he did... well Roy could live with that if he had to. Out of the three possibilities it was the most unlikely to happen. Ed's idealism would most likely forbid him to use any of this, but it was an opening none the less and one Roy would never have given if he had thought it through.

But at that table all Roy had been thinking about was Ed's surprising admission that he cared. Not because he thought Ed didn't, but because neither of them had openly acknowledged it before. His instinct had had told him he could trust Ed.

When they said goodbye, Ed had seemed normal enough, but what was in a few hours when he'd had time to think about it? Losing Ed wasn't an option Roy wanted to consider, something inside him rebelled at the very thought.

Roy looked up and blinked at his surroundings. To his surprise he was halfway home. For a moment he considered looking for a bus, but then disregarded the thought. The fresh air would do him good and he desperately needed to clear his head.


	4. Interlude: Phonecall

"Rockbell Automail. This is Alphonse Elric, how can I help you?" Al said cheerfully into the phone. He should have taken this vacation ages ago. A few days with only Winry to worry about... Well there was nothing better to raise the spirit.

"Hey, Al," Ed replied, his tone equally cheerful. It had Alphonse instantly on edge. He knew Ed better than anyone and this...

"What's wrong, Brother?" Al asked.

"Nothing," Ed replied, "Am I not allowed to call you?"

"Well let's see... No. You hate talking via phone." In his best Edward imitation he added: "A phone has no body-language. Do you have any idea how annoying it is? As if having only one half of a conversation." 

Winry chose that moment to emerge from her workshop with a questioning gaze. 'Ed?' she mouthed. He nodded, before returning to the conversation, "That were your words, Brother. Besides, you can't fool me with that cheerfulness. Something is wrong."

Winry frowned at his words. A bit like thunderclouds darkening the horizon.

"You always knew me better than I did, didn't you?" Ed said with a sigh, but at least the forced happiness was gone.

"If he broke his automail again, I will kill him," Winry looked about ready to throw a wrench straight through the phone line, laws of physics be damned. The thought made Al smile despite the situation. Luckily the shop door opened and Winry made her way over to the customer, not without sending a suspicious glare to the phone.

"So, tell me what happened," Al said with a hint of steel in his voice. Sometimes he asked himself which of them was the smaller brother.

Silence answered him, making Al tap his foot impatiently. He just decided that a bit more force would be needed to make his brother spit out what was on his mind, when Ed finally spoke.

"Mustang kissed me," he blurted out.

Al stared for a second. That was great wasn't it? It was what Ed had wanted but it didn't explain why he was so down. "You should be over the moon by this," Al started, "What went wrong?"

If Mustang had hurt him, Al was going to kill him. No actually, that would be too easy. First he would get Winry and her flying wrenches on board and then they could... He cut the thought in favour of listening to Ed.

"He didn't kiss _me_ ," Ed replied, "The bastard was drunk and nearly passed out. That's the story. Happy now?" 

Al could put together the rest. "You didn't confront him, did you?"

"Of course not," Ed replied in his why-the-hell-should-I-do-that voice.

"You know that alcohol doesn't change people, right? It only lowers their inhibitions."

"Leave it, Al," Ed muttered, "He just started to trust me, I won't endanger that. And he was halfway into dreamland when he..."

Ed trailed off and didn't say anything more. Al sighed inwardly, before answering, "You should probably tell him anyway. What if he does like you?"

"We already discussed this, Al. All those problems with society and him wanting to be Fuhrer. And Mustang is into women, remember?"

Al sighed again. When would his brother accept that he didn't have to sacrifice his own happiness to make others happy?

"He deserves to make this decision himself."

Ed sighed, "Al, I..."

"No, Brother," Al started, his own temper rising. Ed deserved to be happy. He had done so much, paid more than anyone should ever have to pay. Why couldn't he allow himself to at least try this? "Listen for a second. This doesn't have to be an all or nothing thing. You can take this slow. Talk to him, get closer one step at a time and wait if he's comfortable before doing the next step."

"But Al..."

"No but, Brother. You have two directions: Forward or out. But staying where you are now isn't doing you any good."

Ed sighed, but Al knew him. Forward was the only way Ed had ever chosen.

"Forward," Ed muttered and Al grinned. Good, now he only had to make sure Ed didn't do something stupid.

For a moment they were both silent, before Ed spoke up again. "Thanks Al. Guess I needed to hear this. Tell Winry I said hi."

"Of course, Brother, I will. She wants to come visit us in a few weeks, make sure not to be away on a mission."

"Give me something more precise than a few weeks and I can talk to the Bastard", Ed said and for the first time in this whole conversation he sounded genuinely happy.

"I'll let you know as soon as she has cleared her schedule."

"Is that gear head doing nothing but automail? Geez, she needs to find a hobby or something."

"Careful, Brother, she won't leave her wrenches at home," Al laughed, "And she threatened an imminent and painful death to you if you broke your automail.

"Don't you dare tell her what I said," Ed said and Al only laughed harder.

"Okay, okay, don't worry."

"Hey Al. Stop hanging on the phone and enjoy your time with Winry. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I will," Al replied, still smiling, "Don't do anything stupid."

"I never do," Ed said, "Bye."

"Bye."


	5. The Following Weeks

Saturday

Ed slowly hung up the phone, looking at it with a fond gaze, before blinking. Despite the coffee he was tired. His gaze landed on the door to his own room and with a yawn he made his way over there. He looked at the rumpled sheets, blinking against the tiredness. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to curl up in there and chase the fleeting scent of Roy that must have caught in the sheets. It was too early anyway.

He padded over and buried his head in the pillow. Mostly there was the scent of his machine oil, but there was a hint of the alcohol of the bar last night, and a bit of campfire smoke and Roy. He breathed it in, once, twice, but his head didn't want to shut up about the kiss. 

In the end he didn't manage any more sleep. Not doing anything just gave his mind time to wander where he didn't want it, so he got up and started to work on his arrays. It would focus his mind and keep it well on the topic at hand. Which wasn't how Roy tasted. Definitely not. Not even how his half lidded eyes had focused on him, sleepy and content. Damn. He was thinking it again. With a curse Ed threw his pencil against the wall.

By midday finally an idea popped up, keeping his interest on the paper before him. When he next looked up, it was starting to get dark and his stomach grumbled, but he decided to eat later. He had to use the time after all, in which Al couldn't nag him about food and sleep. 

Of course that was when the phone rang. 

Ed sighed, but pushed his chair back to answer. 

"Edward Elric."

"Hey, Brother."

"Al? What's up? What do you want?" Ed asked, "I'm in the middle of a breakthrough."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Al! I said breakthrough."

"I heard you perfectly. Now go get something to eat."

Ed sighed. Al even managed to nag him when he wasn't home. Annoying little brother. Who was right of course. But he was so close.

"Yeah, fine."

"Good. I just wanted to say I'll come with the train at four tomorrow."

Ed smiled at that.

"I'll be there. We can pick up some of those Xingese noodles on our way."

"Yes. Good. Now eat, I'll see you tomorrow," Al said cheerfully and ended the call.

Ed sighed and went to the kitchen. The mugs from the morning still stood on the counter and the picture of Mustang, sleep ruffled at the table came unbidden to mind. And the night before when the wind had tossed his hair in disarray. The way he had looked at him, so tender and trusting, his lips on Ed's...

Ed let his head fall against the counter. That was why he hadn't wanted to bother with food. It gave his mind free time to wander into Mustang territory. Again. 

Only not eating wasn't an option either. Now that Al had pointed it out, he felt he was hungry. Damn it.

And still 35 hours to go before he saw Mustang again. Ed sighed. That would be a long Sunday.

* * *

Monday

It was the longest weekend Ed had ever experienced, but as much as time slowed down, it didn't go on forever.

Al was in the best of moods when they made their way through Central on Monday morning. Ed on the other hand was cranky and tired. He hadn't slept well and he had no idea how to go about the going forward part. 

Not to mention the drizzling rain and persistent cold on the streets. And to top it off, not two steps out of their door, a man had walked right into Ed, muttering an apologetic, "Didn't see you there." Al had saved the man from any retribution by pulling Ed along before he could open his mouth.

So now Ed was back to contemplating his initial problem: Colonel Bastard.

Alphonse was right of course. Staying where he was wasn't an option. Screwing it up by going forward didn't sound too enticing either. 

"Don't worry about it, just do what feels right," Al said.

"Stop reading my mind!" Ed growled.

"I didn't, Brother, but it wasn't hard to guess with your expression," Al answered.

"And what is it with this dating advice? I don't see you and Winry getting anywhere!" Ed knew the second he said it, that it was uncalled for. His brother was just trying to help, "Sorry," he muttered, "It's just, this has so many ways it could go wrong."

Al sighed. "Yeah and that is why you wanted to do this slow and subtle, so you can pull back if it does."

"I'm not very good with subtle, Al," Ed said, kicking a stone along the street. Outright asking for what he wanted was more his forte. 

"You know that thing you do when the General is around? Being all careful and controlled as to not let him know how much you like him? Just stop doing it bit by bit and see where it goes," Al replied.

"Why are we discussing this anyway. That's none of your business," Ed muttered. His ears were flaming red.

"Your happiness is my business and besides it's way too much fun when you get defensive." Al grinned. 

"Damn, I should never have told you. Just leave me to it, okay." Ed's cheeks burned. Al started to laugh. 

Growling Ed sped up. For the rest of the way he made sure not to acknowledge Al's existence. 

No longer being controlled around Mustang... All these mechanisms to deflect suspicion were ingrained in his instincts for years now. He wasn't even sure he himself knew what his normal reactions were.

When they reached headquarter Ed's mood hadn't lifted. Well, at least he was out of the rain. A clap and the glow of alchemy dried his coat, before the two of them made their way to the office. Hawkeye looked up and smiled, before gesturing to the inner office. "Go through, Ed. He has a new assignment for you."

Ed hesitated for a second. He dreaded to go in there. Even with Al's advice at the back of his mind he felt he would mess this up. At the same time he wanted to go in. 

He wasn't even sure how long it had been like this, how long ago seeing Mustang had gone from being a nuisance over being embarrassing as hell (thanks to his crush) to something he looked forward to. Damn, there were times when going in there to have a good argument totally made his day.

Al looked up at him and smiled one part compassion and encouragement and the other open amusement. Ed glared before striding through the room and, without knocking, entered the inner office. 

"What is it, Bastard? You do know that my other assignment isn't finished yet?" Ed started, before Mustang could say anything. He looked tense underneath his calm mask. Why? Because of that night? What did he think Ed would be doing?

"Good morning to you too, Fullmetal," Mustang replied, "And contrary to your believe I do know what my subordinates are currently working on."

Ed sat down on a chair next to the desk. "And you give me another assignment because?"

"Because it's an emergency," Mustang said, "There is an alchemist on the loose, crashing down buildings by hollowing the ground underneath them." He pushed a report over the desk. "He has done so for weeks throughout most of western Amestris.

"It's your job to find a pattern in his movement. Find what our analysts have overlooked, so our soldiers can catch him."

"Hang on a second. You are not sending me out?" Ed replied skimming the first page, "That man is dangerous!"

"You have all the information you can get right here. Our forces can handle the alchemist."

"I don't get a feeling for him when I'm here!" Ed growled, "And letting normal soldiers deal with an alchemist is plain stupid."

"Rest assured that I know what I'm doing. That alchemist moves too fast and without a pattern. You would never catch up to him. At least the soldiers can be everywhere at once."

Ed scowled, but that last argument had some weight. Damn it. He snatched up the report and stood up, "Fine. I'll do it from here."

"Good. You are dismissed, Fullmetal."

Ed turned around and it was only then that he allowed himself to smile. Then his mind caught up. That was exactly what Al had said he shouldn't do. Mask his feelings. Ed took a deep breath.

At the door he turned around and flashed Mustang a brilliant smile, before slamming the door shut behind him.

The look of utter surprise that flickered over Mustang's face was absolutely worth it.

* * *

Thursday

Ed strode into the office, report under his arm and steaming coffee in his automail hand.

Roy would have happily killed for a coffee right now, the day had started way to early. The fact that the coffee smelled fantastic didn't help either, but Hawkeye would kill him if he left his desk to get some.

"Here you go," Ed said and let the report drop on his desk, before he pushed the chair back and made himself comfortable. With a smile he tested the temperature of the coffee with his flesh hand, frowned and set it down on the edge of Roy's desk to cool.

Roy suppressed a sigh and took the report to skim over it. "You think he follows an ore line?"

"Yes," Ed replied in a tone that suggested Roy was missing the point, "And he does not care for whatever get's in his way when he goes up for air."

"Are you saying he is tunnelling through the ground?"

"I wouldn't write it in there if I didn't think he would! For Truth's sake, stop wasting time and let me go out there and stop him!"

"I sent Armstrong out a week ago, Fullmetal. I will let him know what to expect. You are dismissed."

Ed glared at him, then stood and stalked out of the office, smashing the door shut.

Roy's gaze fell on the coffee. He should probably tell Ed that he had left it, but it smelled too good. Carefully he reached out and took a sip. Perfect.

With a sigh he set it down and grabbed the phone. 

"Yes, this is General Mustang, I need to talk to Major Armstrong."

"Wait a minute please," the soldier on the other end replied.

Roy smiled at the coffee. It took him nearly half of the minute to realise that it was black with a hint of milk and no trace of sugar, exactly like Roy normally drank it, as opposed to Ed who dumped enough sugar in his coffee to make a spoon stand within.

Roy stared at it. Had Ed left it here on purpose? Why else would he bring coffee with him that was made the way he liked it? Before he could think it through, the phone came alive again and a happy voice boomed into his ear.

"Brigade General Mustang, sir, it is a pleasure to hear your voice. Do you have new information? We are in dire need of new ideas to stop this dreadful alchemist."

For the moment the coffee was forgotten, as Roy outlined Ed's idea and the most likely place for the alchemist to show up next.

Only when he hung up, his gaze returned to the coffee. It was a kind gesture and totally uncharacteristic for Ed. But now that he thought about it, it wasn't the first time Ed had acted strange and it had started with that night.

Roy had imagined many ways this could change their relationship for worse, but his initial fear for what Ed would do with the knowledge from the bar and with his ability to read him had been unfounded. Ed had neither commented on it, nor indicated in any other way that the evening even existed.

There was no pity in his gaze and no making fun of him.

What changed was something else entirely. Ed became less distant. Not that he had been a distant person to begin with, but before the bar night Ed would have gone out of his way to spend as little time as possible with him. He would take the far end of the table in a meeting, he would keep to business and insults.

But not anymore. The shift was subtle. A genuine smile here and there in between his usual rants, taking the place next to him if available. And now the coffee, which Roy savoured with small sips.

It was as if something from the Ed of that morning, the Ed who cared, had slipped into the everyday life.

Whatever it was, it was intoxicating.

* * *

Wednesday

Ed was somewhat pleased with himself. Nearly two weeks had gone by and Mustang had yet to tell him off. And to his surprise Ed felt better, now that he could allow himself to relax in the other man's company. But Ed had yet to do something a bit more dramatic than bringing Mustang coffee. (And damn had Al laughed about the coffee.) 

The problem was that Ed wasn't sure what to do next. Until now Mustang had seemed fine, if sometimes a bit startled by his gestures. That look on Mustang's face the very first time Ed had flashed him a smile right after an argument... Priceless. 

'Just do what comes naturally.' Al's voice said from the back of his mind. Ed pushed the memory back. Dating advice from his brother. That was embarrassing as hell.

Scribbling the last note onto his paper, Ed stood up. Yet another report ready for Mustang. He could have put it on the pile that Hawkeye would bring in a few minutes, but he had to talk to the man anyway. A glance to Hawkeye gave him the clear and so he entered the inner office. 

Mustang looked up and his expression softened a fraction, but he looked still weary. No wonder with the amount of papers in front of him. Ed smiled and set the report on one of the stacks without signatures. 

"Winry is gonna visit in two weeks, so Al and I need to be in the city. Whatever mission you have in mind, nothing short of an emergency will get us out of Central." He didn't make it sound like a request. No matter how much he liked the bastard, Ed didn't intend to be any easier on him. That would be no fun at all.

Mustang smirked. "You know Fullmetal, there is something called formal procedure. If you want a day off, you go and fill out a request form."

"As if you'd want me to do that. Would be just more paper in those stacks." Ed grinned lazily.

"And working around the paperwork is gonna be less work?" Mustang asked, eyebrow rising. 

"If you are so keen on it." Ed shrugged. It wasn't as if Al wouldn't make him fill out one of those forms anyway. 

Mustang shook his head, but not as if he wanted to say no. "You know, any normal soldier would have the decency to ask instead of demand."

"And give you the idea you had a say in the matter?" Ed asked.

"Here I was thinking that was exactly what a superior officer had!"

"Oh, come on, who else is gonna keep you on your toes?" Ed grinned.

"That's what my superiors are there for," Mustang replied.

"There's someone who can do it better than me?" Ed said, "I'll take that as a challenge!"

Mustang groaned, but his eyes were laughing. Ed smiled inwardly. Mission accomplished.

"I'll leave you to it, or Hawkeye might shoot me. I'll just add Al's and my request form to your stacks of paperwork tomorrow." 

Mustang sent a glare after him and Ed hastily made his retreat. He still couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

Tuesday

"Hey, you are still here?" Ed's voice startled Roy from his latest report, some request for new equipment for an outpost near the Cretan border. The moment he looked up he wished he hadn't. The latent headache that had crept in several hours ago, started to pound in his temples, now that his focus wasn't on the pages any more.

"Believe it or not, Fullmetal, I actually do my work," Roy replied. What did Ed do here anyway? The clock said it was more than an hour over work time. And he wasn't in the mood to have an argument with Ed. All he wanted to do was finish so he could get home. Well if he had wanted that he shouldn't have baited Ed with sarcasm.

To his surprise the jibe never came. "You look tired," Ed said, leaning casually in the doorway, hands in his pockets and brows furrowed.

Damn. Once again Roy had forgotten that Ed could see right past his masks and adapt accordingly. What he had learned in the past days was that honesty was the easiest way to get what he wanted from Ed.

"Maybe I am. And the faster you get out, the faster I can finish this and get some sleep." There that should work.

Once again Ed surprised him, with a shake of his head.

"Can I help you with that?" he asked.

Roy resisted the urge to rub his temples to relieve his headache. Instead he arched an eyebrow. "You want to help me read through paperwork? Who are you and what did you do with Ed?"

Ed. Oh damn, he hadn't just said that, had he? He was normally so careful to never let his name slip, to keep it professional.

"Yes," Ed said, "That's what I said. Hand some over, I can sum them up for you."

Roy hesitated. For one, this wasn't Ed's security level, for two, Ed might miss some important detail. But he was so very tired and all he wanted was to go home. With a sigh he pushed some documents over. If it was important he could still ask for details and it wasn't as if he didn't trust Ed blind anyway.

Ed took them without hesitation and settled on the couch, already lost in the pages. 

Roy wasn't sure this arrangement would work, but with all the paperwork in front of him he wouldn't question his luck. He opened his own report and started to read again.

Ten minutes later Ed was back on his feet, making Roy look up from his work, but Ed just grabbed some spare paper and a pen and got back to the sofa, scribbled something down and pinned it to the report he was reading. 

Since it didn't seem important, Roy went back to his own work. The soft rustling when Ed turned a page and the light scratching of the pen faded to a soothing background hum. Roy managed to sign three other reports, before a stack of paperwork landed on his desk, each one with a hand scribbled note pinned to it. 

Ed just sent him a smile, took another hand full of reports from the to do stack and settled back on the couch, this time belly first with his feet in the air.

Curious Roy pulled one of Ed's notes to him.

It belonged to a request form of repairs in one of the southern outposts. Ed had written down the amount of money that would be needed and added two comments.

The first told him some details about the outpost. Amount of stationed soldiers and whom they were answering to.

The second was about the repairs itself: 'Not urgent, nothing detrimental to the health of the soldiers or their ability to perform. Waiting will lower the troops morals though.'

Roy flipped the report open, skimming over the list of things to be repaired. 

He had to agree with Ed. Neither a dripping faucet nor a defect bathroom window would endanger health and performance of the soldiers, but living with it day in day out would get annoying.

With a sigh he signed his approval and pulled the next report to him. 

They worked in silence for what felt like forever, but when Roy signed the last report and blinked at the clock it was a quarter past nine. 

"We are through?" Ed asked. The hours of work had cost him his relaxed air, but he still looked a lot better than Roy felt. He rolled his shoulders to relieve some tension. Ed smiled sympathetic. "Then let's get out of here before we find any more paperwork sneaking up on us."

Ed smiled brightly and slipped into his coat, before waiting patiently for Roy to sort the finished paperwork onto the right stacks on Riza's desk.

Roy grabbed his own coat and switched the light off, before falling into step beside Ed.


	6. Interlude: You Do If I Do

"Tell him, brother", Al said. He was no longer a seven foot suit of armour, but he was bigger than Ed and he was ready to use any advantage he could get, "There is such a thing as too much caution! Tell me what you can read on him whenever he sees you!"

Ed stubbornly looked away so he didn't have to stare up at him. "His eyes light up and he relaxes a bit," he muttered finally, "But that doesn't mean anything. We are friends."

"Of course it means something," Al said exasperated, "Besides what else is left to do? You have already done just about everything there is, that doesn't make your feelings obvious."

"What became of taking it slow?" Ed asked, shoulders hunched.

"There is a difference between taking it slow and stagnating, Ed," Al said, crossing his arms, "He has a right to know and decide for himself."

"And what about you and Winry? Don't you think she has a right to know too?" Ed countered.

Al froze. He couldn't tell Winry. What if she only saw a brother in him? What if this would change things between them? What if she would feel uncomfortable knowing this? What if...

"Yeah. Now you know why I don't tell him," Ed said, "And you have it a lot easier. She is only waiting for you to make up your mind."

Al bit on his lip before realising what he did. "If I tell her, will you tell the General?" he asked. His insides felt like ice, even thinking about talking to Winry.

Ed hesitated, fear in his eyes. "Al..."

Al waited and a part of him hoped he would say no. If he said no he wouldn't have to tell Winry yet. He could wait till he was sure. Could...

"Okay," Ed whispered.

Al pressed his lips together and nodded. "She'll be here tomorrow. I will tell her the moment she leaves the train."

"Fuck," Ed muttered, and then, "If you go through with that, I will go visit Mustang and do the same."

That was exactly what Al had wanted, but it didn't feel like triumph. Not anymore. Not with having to tell Winry. What if she said no?


	7. Confessions

When the door to the apartment opened Ed's insides were pulled in tight knots. Had Al done it? That would be great, fantastic even. At the same time Ed really wished he hadn't. It would be so much easier. Fuck.

The door opened fully and he could hear shuffling and giggles. With a sigh he stood up from his desk and the array he had worked on (or tried to work on) and made his way to the front door.

He saw Winry first, hair a bit dishevelled face alight with a genuine smile and so much happiness that she seemed to glow. Al entered behind her, a smile on his face, nothing left of the earlier tenseness. Their eyes met and Ed could see how proud Al was and how excited. 

There were no words needed, but Al said it anyway: "I did it." He put his arm around Winry's shoulder and she leaned into him.

Ed laughed before covering the distance in two steps pulling them both into a hug. That had taken them long enough. 

"Took him long enough," Winry said, as if she had read Ed's mind, then she turned and placed a soft kiss on Al's cheek, before looking back to Ed, "No offense, but Al said we would have the apartment for us if he asked me." She grinned in that way that told Ed she knew exactly what Ed would have to do now.

Ed sent a half hearted glare to his brother and snatched his jacked from the chair he had thrown it on hours before. 

"Wouldn't want to be here anyway," he said, grinning over his shoulder, "I really don't wanna hear what you get up to."

Now it was Al's turn to glare, but Winry just grinned a cheeky grin and shushed him out of the door.

He met Al's eyes again, now much more earnest. He would keep his part of the deal and tell Mustang. His insides went into freefall just thinking about it. Damn.

"Good luck," Al said.

"He is an idiot if he sends you away. Oh and if he hurts you, I'm going to maim him," Winry added with a smile. 

Ed nodded and closed the door behind him.

* * *

The ringing of the bell had Roy frown in confusion. He didn't expect anyone tonight. Hawkeye was on a night out with Rebecca, and he hadn't asked a girl out in weeks...

Sighing he let go of his pen and made his way over to the door. The bell rang again, before he reached it. Whoever it was, could use a bit of patience. Annoyed Roy yanked the door open.

"Fullmetal?" 

"Yeah, nice to see you too," Ed replied dryly. He seemed to be nervous, but before Roy could say anything else Ed pushed his way inside.

"Do come in," Roy said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and closed the door behind him. Ed made two steps into the house, before whirling around to him with clenched fists.

"What do you want?" Roy asked cautious.

For a moment it seemed Ed wouldn't answer. He just stared at him, fists clenching and unclenching, tension in every line of his body. Then he spoke, voice rough and a little shaky.

"Equivalent exchange." 

One second, Roy was utterly confused. Equivalent...? Then Ed's lips met his and instantly his mind was blank. The world narrowed down to Ed's lips, a bit rough against his own. It was a soft kiss, clumsy and with an edge of desperation to it, tasting of coffee and Ed and... 

The next second he was shoved backwards and his gaze was caught by golden eyes, wide with surprise and shock as if he couldn't believe he had just done this. Ed opened his mouth, hesitated, closed it again. 

Part of Roy thought it looked adorable. Edward speechless. Part of him wanted to press Ed against the wall and kiss him senseless. Part of him wanted to turn around and run. 

Because he wanted this. He wanted this and he shouldn't. Ed was twenty for god's sake. (Way past the age of consent, his mind helpfully supplied.) Roy had his goals, a relationship, especially this one would be dangerous. God, he wanted this. 

And Edward, who called him bastard at every given opportunity, seemed to want this too.

"I ..." Roy started, then hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say. He started again, "Equivalent exchange?" he asked.

"You got to kiss me, so I got to kiss you."

When did he...? Then it dawned him. That night after the bar. He had thought it was a dream.

"Why didn't you say anything?" On some level he knew that his mind was stuck on details rather than the fact that Ed had kissed him. Had wanted to kiss him.

"You were out of it, didn't think you'd remember, or know it was me you were trying to kiss." Ed still looked nervous, but not as tense as before. 

"Why now?"

"Needed to make sure you didn't run away screaming before I tried, didn't I?"

"I never run away screaming!"

"Stop beating around the bush!" Ed replied, "Or do I need to spell it out for you?"

No he didn't. Ed wanted this. He had made it clear enough. And Roy wanted it too. The question was, was he willing to risk it? 

_Would you forgive yourself if you don't?_ Maes whispered in his head.

When he put it like that, the answer was easy.

"You know that this will get complicated? With the military and everyone else?" He needed to be sure Ed knew what he got himself into.

Ed nodded. He looked tense again, still waiting for an answer. "You need to be fuhrer. I get that. It has to come first. No one can know."

Roy nodded. It wasn't fair on Ed. "I'm sorry it has to be that way." Ed's shoulders slumped, but Roy caught his arm before he could move, "I'm selfish enough to want you anyway."

A brilliant smile lit Ed's face and this time Roy didn't resist, he pulled Ed close to kiss him senseless. He had no idea what he had done to deserve this, but he didn't intend to let it go anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own.


End file.
